Vincent's POV
After a night's rest, I woke up fully healed. Every trace of the bullet had vanished from my insides, as if it had never been there. Before the time the sun was up, I was already dressed and out of the house, sitting through a meeting with the elders about pack territories and loose rogues before heading straight to the office.
My hand rested on the mouse as I stared at the image on my screen. A spider tattoo, black ink curling around a neck I couldn't forget. It didn't take long for recognition to settle in.
They were called the Vipers thread Syndicate.
A low-level gang, mostly half-breeds and desperate rogues. Known for careless robberies, extortion, dirty work for hire. Loud, reckless, stupid. Not the kind that would go after me unless someone with deeper pockets was pulling their strings.
